


Sense Memory

by kirasha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: daily_deviant, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-11
Updated: 2007-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 18:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1314259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirasha/pseuds/kirasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a matter of celebration...mixed in with a little harmless payback.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sense Memory

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** blindfolding
> 
> written for [daily_deviant]()

"Trust me?"  
  
Those two deceptively simple words were smooth and low, warm breath tickling his ear, as his own breath caught in his throat. And, then, the long swath of cool silk was tied snuggly across his eyes, blinding him to the familiar scene of the kitchen they had shared for nearly a year. The knot was tightened at the back of his head and long, gentle fingers carefully pulled loose a strand of hair that had been caught inside, the tiny tug on his scalp sending a frisson of awareness sparking down his spine.  
  
"Always," he breathed, the sensation of lips curling upward as they pressed lightly against the skin of his throat the only response. Thin arms wrapped around his waist, a tall, thin frame molding to the contours of his own body from behind, warming him and surrounding him in the scents of herbs and spices and something inherently _male_. That scent alone, so dark and rich and unique in it's origins, was more intoxicating than any liquor he'd ever imbibed.  
  
Then, the bottom fell out of his stomach as the world dropped away into the sickening vertigo of side-along apparation.  
  
Oh, how he hated that feeling. It was one thing to experience the momentary disorientation of standard apparition. But, the unexpected shift in his body's center of gravity that came with giving over control to someone else was a sensation he had never grown accustomed to or comfortable with. He swayed dizzily as his feet felt firm ground beneath them once again and groped blindly for the solid presence of the man behind him.  
  
"I've got you." Strong, slim arms tightened around him, supporting him until he regained his balance.  
  
Hot breath fanned his ear, silence stretching out between them as he tried to guess where his lover had brought him. Gulls cried in the distance, a sharp counterpoint to the soft shush of what he surmised must be the sea, the scent of salt and brine on the air confirming his guess. A breeze ruffled his hair. But, he could sense the presence of walls about them; so, they were not truly outdoors.  
  
"The coast?"  
  
"Perhaps." Thin lips trailed teasing kisses along his throat once more and he shivered minutely as cool fingers slipped beneath the hem of his jumper. "Why don't you kick your shoes off and see if that jogs your memory?"  
  
Kick off his shoes?  
  
Wondering if his confusion showed on the half of his face that was visible, he followed directions, slipping his feet out of his loafers and pulling his socks off awkwardly with his toes. The floor was cool and slightly rough beneath his now bare feet, unfinished wood that had not been sanded perfectly. Sweeping one foot curiously back and forth, his big toe jammed into what must probably have been the leg on some table or other, but was solid enough to sent a sharp pain shooting through his foot and up his ankle. Sucking in pained breath, he stood motionless for a moment before venturing to move his foot once again.  
  
This time, he found what felt like a mark of some sort carved deeply into the coarse surface of the wood. Carefully tracing the spot revealed the shape to be an 'X'. Memory teased at the edges of his awareness, which was distracted by a warm mouth suckling almost delicately at the sensitive skin just behind his ear.  
  
"Do you remember the day you carved that?" Long, wicked fingers, warmed now by the contact of skin to skin, traced teasing patterns across his abdomen, distracting him further from the question at hand. Other parts of his body were taking a decided interest in the path of those fingers as they toyed with the light dusting of hair just above the waistband of his trousers.  
  
"Don't tell me you've forgotten. Not after you made the mark to prevent me from doing just that." His lover's voice took on a deep, silky tone any self-respecting incubus would envy and yet, somehow managed to still hold a note of dark affection. The sound sent shocks of arousal reverberating from head to toe to groin and back again. "Is that it? Have you _forgotten_?"  
  
A gasp escaped his lips as equally hard flesh was pressed purposely against his arse at the same time memory finally clicked in.  
  
"No."  
  
No, he hadn't forgotten. How could he forget? That had been the first--  
  
"I hated you that first time." A hand glided down his own achingly hard length, cupping him firmly through trousers suddenly grown three sizes too small. Torn between the urge to thrust forward into that hand and the one to push back into the welcome hardness behind him, his hips undulated between the two, need beginning to burn through him. "Oh yes, I hated you and everything I thought you stood for."  
  
He remembered.  
  
It had been shortly before the end of the war and he'd learned the other man's cover had been blown. He'd been discovered as a spy and given to the pack as punishment, the Dark Lord knowing his servants' weaknesses with eerie thoroughness -- even those servants who were able to hide more of their minds than others. With only a few hours before moonrise and nearly choking on the remorse of ever having believed the other man to have betrayed them, he'd managed to smuggle him here, to a remote safe house, before disappearing again for the transformation. When he'd returned, his 'captive' had been less than grateful.  
  
"I remember you shouted at me as soon as I walked in." His own voice grew husky with sudden desire and he could feel the tickle of eyelashes against his jaw as though unseen eyes were fluttering in reaction to it. "You demanded to know why it seemed to be your punishment for living was to be constantly harassed by arrogant dunderheads."  
  
"Yes." Sure, confident hands pulled his jumper up and over his head. "And, I seem to recall the only answer I received was your tongue in my mouth."  
  
"I was improvising." The wicked fingers were back, meandering across his chest in seemingly random patterns and leaving tingling trails in their wake. He could feel his nipples tightening to little nubs of sensation as those fingers skimmed lightly over them in rapid succession. With a mind of it's own, his body seemed to arch into that fleeting touch, begging wordlessly for more while he made a valiant effort to carry on the playful banter as though he wasn't breathless with anticipation. "I don't remember you complaining."  
  
"Complain? Who had time to complain?" Short nails scored his skin from shoulder to waist. The scratches still burned exquisitely as hands gripped his hips firmly and pulled him roughly back, his partner's prominent arousal pushing urgently against his own cotton-clad arse. "You were so hot for it I was against a wall with your fingers thrusting inside me before five minutes passed."  
  
The memory of that morning alone would have had him panting with need, even without the dastardly man still whispering seductively in his ear. He _had_ been 'hot for it' then. Nearly overcome with relief at both finally knowing the truth of the other man's loyalties and managing to keep him from the jaws of an angry werewolf pack, it had been an easy thing to listen to that primitive side of him when it demanded claiming first and talking...well, later. When they had caught their breath, he'd cut the 'X' into the floor with a charm, a mark that wouldn't fade like the purpling bite he'd left upon pale flesh.  
  
Now, the same hands that had tried to fight him off before later scrabbling at the wall in wild abandon were working the flak of his trousers with quick efficiency. Before he could even draw breath to speak again, he was naked to the world save for the puddle of clothes around his ankles. The cool sea breeze brought faint gooseflesh up wherever it passed, but it was the soft scratching of cloth across the newly exposed skin of back, arse, and thighs that made him shudder.  
  
"We've already been here at _least_ four minutes," he eventually managed to choke out around the deep growl of lust vibrating low in his chest. One finger, ever his torment, ran teasingly along the length of him from base to tip, where it circled briefly before tracing along the veins back to the base. He worked his hand behind him, between their two rocking bodies, to fumble with the fastens of his lover's trousers.  
  
One long-fingered hand gripped him hotly, stroking him slowly until he writhed against the still-clothed chest behind him.  
  
"We have at that." Hot, panting breath blew across his bare shoulder in short bursts for only a moment longer. Then, with four long steps, guided awkwardly from behind, he was pressed face-first into what could only be the same wall he had once thrown the man whose fingers were now inside _him_ against in blind lust. He groaned loudly at the intrusion, pushing back eagerly for _more_. Somewhere, in the distance, the waves slapped rhythmically against the shore, the sound reaching his ears in strange counterpoint to the stretching push and pull of his lover's fingers inside him. A particularly deep thrust hit _that_ spot that sent electric shocks skittering along his nerves, dragging another groan out of him.  
  
"Now. Do it, now."  
  
His only response was a stilling of the fingers before they jerked slightly inside of him, as though the man attached to them was trying to do something with the other hand without dislodging those fingers. Then, they withdrew to be replaced by something much thicker and larger than two fingers. The blunt tip nudged at his opening, pressing in just enough to tease, though not enough to fully penetrate.  
  
"For the love of God." He tried to push back again, to force the penetration he needed. But, a hand pressed against the base of his spine prevented it.  
  
Without warning the other man surged forward, filling him in one smooth stroke and making him cry out with surprise.  
  
Lacking the distraction of sight, the blindfold still tied around his eyes and nearly forgotten in the fog of lust and arousal, he was able to _feel_ their joining with a new intensity. He could feel every inch of his lover's hard, hot length as it filled and stretched his body, the texture of each bump of vein adding even more sensation. The ridge were tip met shaft dragged and pulled at the skin of his passage each time his lover pulled out, soothing the pleasure-burn before the next hard thrust drove even deeper into him.  
  
They set a pounding, desperate pace, his partner remaining fully dressed in their haste. The hand wrapped around him stroked in perfect time with the frantic motion of their hips, the mingled sound of their gasping breaths and breathless grunts filling the air. It was almost too intense -- the scratch of fabric along his skin, the pool of molten need in his gut, the extra little push at the end of each thrust, as though to send the thick shaft inside him just that much deeper until it was hitting _that_ spot with each powerful stroke.  
  
Release overtook him almost before it he was ready for it, adding it's salty musk to the scents of sweat and sex surrounding them. He howled with relief as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through him. His muscles clenched automatically around his lover until one...two jerking thrusts later, the liquid heat of the other man's climax pulsed inside him.  
  
Moments later, they slid to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Turning in his lover's embrace, he removed the blindfold, to be met with a piercing, dark-eyed gaze. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on familiar thin lips.  
  
"That was certainly...unexpected." He grinned.  
  
"Now we're even." The deep, almost slumberous, voice held only a tiny note of sarcasm, bringing an even wider smile to his face.  
  
"You're really not going to say the words, are you?"  
  
"We shouldn't lay here too long when there's a perfectly comfortable bed in the next room."  
  
"You'll plan this surprise, but you won't say one simple phrase."  
  
"Remus..."  
  
"Alright."  
  
The continuous shushing of the waves upon the beach outside was the only sound other than the faint thumping of their own still-slowing heartbeats as they remained on the floor to catch their breath.  
  
"Severus...?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Happy Anniversary."


End file.
